


i wouldn't leave you if you'd let me

by pr1nc3ssp34ch (dallisons)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Curses, Drowning, F/F, Sirens, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4050679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dallisons/pseuds/pr1nc3ssp34ch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison frowned. “Doesn’t anyone fulfill your desires in return?” </p><p>There was a strange silence, and Allison wrung her hands, nervous. “No one’s ever asked,” Lydia admitted after a while. </p><p>Ignoring the roughness of the rock and the water, Allison knelt, catching Lydia’s hair between her fingertips a moment. “That doesn’t seem fair.”</p><p>Lydia leaned out of the water slightly, her eyes so bright they were almost glowing. “Life isn’t fair. Especially not when it’s eternal.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wouldn't leave you if you'd let me

**Author's Note:**

> Made for the Allydia Reverse Bang! :') Thank you to my lovely artist, blackpaintedred, and I hope you like it! I looooove finally getting to work with sirens, and while I was trying not to come off as /too/ instalove, I think instalove kinda works in a mythos-inspired fic. <3
> 
> Title comes from Halsey's "Trouble".

There was something about the ocean that felt safe.

  
  
No matter what time of day Allison came down to the shore, rain or shine, the tide would roll in and out, whether strong or weak. The sand and rock would never be anything but unforgiving, the waves would never be anything but loud. The ocean was known and unknown in equal measure, like life was meant to be.

 

She didn’t live by smooth shores and easy waves, places with boardwalks and lifeguards. Northern California waters were harsh and wild, and her neighbors stayed for the view, not for the freezing swim season.

 

Allison stayed for the caves.

 

Past the docks, where the shore went from pebbles to stones and jagged edges, the ocean floor dropped off, endless dark depths that roiled with the wind. On cool, crisp nights like that one, Allison stuffed her aching feet into thick boots and clambered over to the caves. With her skirt hiked up and a blanket beneath her, she soaked up to her calves and relished in the occasional brush of curious fish against her toes.

 

It was the only moment she didn’t feel like clawing out of her skin.

 

When she graduated from Yale, shiny and new and pristine, Allison thought maybe she’d be able to use her father’s company as a stepping stone. A way to gain political connections, put her polisci degree to good use. The Allison Argent of twenty-six would shudder at the thought of who she’d become, only two years into her future. Groomed to head a company she didn’t even want. Smiling and spouting beliefs that made her sick.

 

She could split her own arrow down the center of a target by throwing a dagger, could navigate her way through conversations with private delegates from Japan and Saudi Arabia, but it _felt_ like nothing. Tasteless and numb, as drab as her stainless-steel covered house and her silver Audi and her crisp pencil skirts.

 

A splash came from her right, rupturing her bubble of thought. Allison’s legs kicked up reflexively, splashing water further up her thighs before she forced herself to stay calm. She’d never felt in danger before in this place, and she wouldn’t be in any now. Fish were often swimming beneath her, and sometimes birds would come to eat them –

 

“Allison.” A bare whisper, from no particular direction, but she could’ve sworn it was her name. She looked out towards the water, shivering lightly. Normally she embraced the cold, but suddenly it seemed menacing. “Hello?”

 

No answer, not that she expected one. Her aunt Kate’s superstitions were rubbing off on her. Allison laughed to herself, nervous, and began to undo the tight braid she’d kept in all day. Maybe it was pulling on her scalp and making her... hear things. Alright, no, that wasn’t a thing, but it made her feel more comfortable, at any rate. 

 

Another splash, and when Allison looked, a flash of red disappeared into the water, maybe fifteen feet in front of her. She frowned. Maybe she should head home –

 

Only Allison’s strict control prevented her from screaming when a head appeared from the water, large green eyes blinking her way. The woman had dark red hair and lips to match, and there was a tiny smirk on her face.

 

 

“This is a private beach, you know,” Allison said hotly. She was rarely surprised anymore, especially not by someone so clearly playing a joke. “Where did you come from?”

 

A laugh like low, pealing bells rushed from her mouth, and for a moment, Allison wanted to join in. She’d never heard anything so full of mirth, so – but then she remembered the laughter was _at_ her, and she recoiled, glaring. Rather than being put off, the woman seemed pleased by that. “This place... _belonged_ to me long before it belonged to any of you.”

 

“O – _kay_...” Allison reached for her jacket, trying not to make sudden movements in front of the obviously insane lady. Before she could, a hand wrapped around her ankle in one blink. “ _Don’t._ ”

 

Normally, Allison would’ve fought back, but there was something in the order that hooked beneath her ribs and kept her still. The woman’s eyes had gone huge and dark, no longer glittering emeralds but dark, deep depths that might swallow her whole. She felt something sharp against her legs, but couldn’t see what it was. Maybe she had a knife?

 

“I’ve watched you, Allison. Pining away here day after day. What is it you’re running from?”

 

 _Everything._ The answer was on the tip of her tongue, bubbling in her throat, pleading to be set free. Her voice was ethereal and coaxing, and Allison’s first instinct was to give in. But there was something wrong about this, about everything, and she bit her tongue until she tasted blood. “Who _are_ you?”

 

So she’d been planning on saying _fuck off,_ but that was good enough.

 

Her brow furrowed a moment before a slow smile spread across the woman’s face. The next sound that came from her lips was indescribable, musical, _magical_ in a way she couldn’t possibly repeat. “You can call me Lydia,” she finished. “That name is still in fashion, isn’t it?”

 

Allison blinked. Kate’s superstitions were starting to seem accurate. “It’s not common, but yes.”

 

Lydia smirked. “Even better. You don’t believe in monsters, Allison, do you?”

 

She felt her eyes slide shut, aching like she’d been staring at the sun. She’d never seen anyone so beautiful, couldn’t possibly imagine a person more alluring. If she kept watching, Allison was positive she’d sell her soul just to get Lydia’s hands on her again. “I didn’t.”

 

A musical hum. “And now?”

 

Allison opened her eyes. Lydia was a few feet away now, her hair slicked back from ears that stuck too close to the neck, lips impossibly full and red for how long she’d been in the ocean. Her skin almost seemed to shimmer when the moonlight caught. “I can see why people were interested enough to write the stories.”

 

Lydia’s laughter filled the air like a cloud of sweet perfume, filling her every sense. She swam impossibly fast, catching Allison’s hand in hers before Allison had realized she’d moved. “You should stay away, from now on. For your own good.” Lydia leaned out of the water, showing a shimmering pattern of scales that ran down her chest and between two naked breasts. “But I hope you don’t."

 

Allison felt a kiss against her palm long after Lydia disappeared beneath the water. When she tried to get up, her knees felt like jelly, and there was a warmth in her stomach that refused to go away.

 

Maybe she’d fallen asleep at her desk.

 

It wasn’t the worst of dreams.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Allison dreamed about soft skin, thick red hair, and the smell of the sea. She woke up with her head pounding, a half an hour later than usual, and decided that everything she remembered from the night before had been a fantastical dream.

 

At work, she accompanied her father through several meetings, endured two lectures – one from him and one from her mother – on things like being punctual and keeping her desk clean, and left an hour late, her hands shaking with frustration. Not only did they want her to take over a business she hated, they wanted her to be perfect at it, and wouldn’t rest until she was. No matter how many mistakes she smoothed over for her dad, _Allison_ could never be anything less than exemplary.

 

When she pulled in to the garage, she allowed herself to beat her hands against the horn, just to do something different for a change.

 

That night, for reasons she couldn’t have explained, she changed out of her work clothes before heading down to the caves. There was something about the day that made her want to look like herself. She donned shorts and an old tank top, covering it with a leather jacket she hadn’t worn in years. It was bigger on her now than it had been; she knew she’d been losing weight, but the actual evidence disconcerted her. As she stepped out the door, she shivered.

 

It took her almost no time at all to get to the caves, climbing far easier without a skirt in her way. The waves were wild that night, crashing against the rock, so she didn’t sit down, standing and letting the water hit her legs and wash into the cave. She felt almost anticipatory, poised on the edge of something _more,_ even though she’d made sure to remind herself that last night was nothing more than a dream.

 

Magical, fantastic things didn’t happen to people like her. Not anymore.

 

As she’d suspected, no mysterious girls appeared in the water, and though she knew it would happen, she still left feeling disappointed. She came back every night, changing into her own clothes and letting her hair down, feeling more and more herself the more she did it. Allison never realized how much it changed things, to look the way she wanted, to feel like she looked and know they were one in the same.

 

And one night, when the tide was low and she was able to sit down again, Lydia returned.

 

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Allison’s heart stopped in her chest, the breath _woosh_ -ing out of her lungs. She could only see a glimpse of red hair and big, green eyes, but it was enough.

 

“You’re back,” she whispered.

 

Lydia lifted her head from the water entirely, tiny droplets sliding down her cheeks and mouth. “So are you.”

 

Now that she was sure it couldn’t have been a dream, their parting words came back to her in a rush. “I don’t like people telling me what to do.”

 

Lydia swam closer, a small smirk resting on her lips. “But you let them.”

 

The comment hurt, twisting like a knife at her breast. Allison gritted her teeth. There was _something_ in Lydia’s voice that made everything she said seem like more than words, like emotion and sensation at the same time. “It’s not that simple. You live in the ocean. You don’t understand.”

 

Between one moment and the next Lydia was there, her hands on either side of Allison against the rock, her body coming out of the water once more. Her eyes had gone dark again, bottomless pools Allison wanted to sink into, delicious and dirty and tempting. “You know nothing of what I do, _child._ ”

 

She didn’t know why she said it. She couldn’t explain what brought out the brazen part of her she’d been burying for years. “You don’t look at me like I’m a child.” She kept her voice defiant, but she was trembling, a fine shaking covering her body.

 

Lydia blinked, and slowly, the light returned to her expression. She sank slowly back into the water, but didn’t move away. “I have known many humans, known their needs, their desires, their struggles. I know more than you think.”

 

“Okay,” Allison agreed. The distinction between _human_ and whatever Lydia was made her shudder. Kate was always talking to her about monsters when she was little, telling her to keep safe and away from the shadows. But she never told her monsters would be alluring, and wicked, and smart.

 

She didn’t warn her they would be beautiful.

 

Lydia frowned at the easy agreement, something twisting in her expression. “Giving up so easily? I thought you stuck to your convictions.”

 

The more they spoke, the more this felt like a test. Allison didn’t know how, but she knew she didn’t want to fail. “I know when I’m out of my league. In this subject, you’re the expert.” She leaned forward, a challenging smile on her lips. “But in others, I bet you’re less knowledgeable than you think.”

 

She was gone after that, in a flash of red hair and the splash of something utterly inhuman. Laughter filtered through the sound of the waves, and again, it wrapped her in the sound. Her voice was warmth and light and joy and magic and _sex_ and Allison was entranced.

 

But not stupid.

 

If this was real, if _magic_ was real, then she was very much caught unawares. She’d have to do more research in order to keep up with Lydia... whatever she was.

 

The thought of looking into something so interesting, so _outside_ the normal, boring things she was used to? It made butterflies burst in her stomach.

 

Allison fell asleep smiling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I know what you are!”

 

The waves were angry tonight, but Allison shouted over them anyway, standing tall. With any luck, Lydia would hear her. She’d done plenty of research, choosing between many of the water-dwelling maidens from a variety of mythologies. There were certain traits that hadn’t lined up, not at first, but then they had. Especially about the way Lydia made her _feel._

 

“Lydia!” she called again, not wanting to give up, not wanting to wait. She was too excited, to learn something new, to do something she’d never done before. There were too few experiences in her life like that anymore. She’d bought new boots, with patterns this time, and a new, more fitted jacket. The more she saw Lydia, the more she felt like _her_ again, and at the very least she wanted to know why, for sure.

 

Just when she started to lose hope, Lydia popped out of the water, resting her arms against the mouth of the cave and looking up at her. “You came back.”

 

“I did some reading,” Allison replied with a fierce grin.

 

“And you still wanted to come?” Lydia seemed genuinely curious, which didn’t make sense to Allison. According to what she knew of mythology, Lydia did this with all sorts of humans over the years. This shouldn’t have been different.

 

“I was curious. Are you really a siren?”

 

For a moment, she thought she’d been wrong. Until Lydia smiled, showing straight, white, _pointed_ teeth. “In English? That’s the one.”

 

“Have you lived other places, that didn’t speak English?”

 

Lydia seemed surprised at the question. Maybe no one else had ever questioned her past. The thought made Allison smile, because she’d always been unique, and the more she surprised people, the more she felt like she was returning to normal. 

 

“No, this is my home. But many races and cultures and languages have thrived here, and many people have found me. I can only learn languages if they come to me first, but I...” Lydia frowned. “I want to know more. Do you understand? I _want._ ”

 

There was a sadness there Allison didn’t understand. Sirens were made up of want, of desire. “I know want,” she admitted, more gently this time. “But you would probably know better than me.”

 

Lydia laughed, and it was almost bitter. It was the first time the sound had filled her with anything but joy. This time, it sounded more like dread. “It’s how I survive. I am what they want. I am what _you_ want.”

 

Allison frowned. “Doesn’t anyone fulfill your desires in return?” In some legends, _that_ was how sirens fed. That was why it had to be enjoyable for their prey. It appeared that wasn’t how it worked for Lydia.

 

There was a strange silence, and Allison wrung her hands, nervous. “No one’s ever asked,” Lydia admitted after a while.

 

Ignoring the roughness of the rock and the water, Allison knelt, catching Lydia’s hair between her fingertips a moment. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

 

Lydia leaned out of the water slightly, her eyes so bright they were almost glowing. “Life isn’t fair. Especially not when it’s eternal.”

 

 

It was an interesting idea, immortality, one she’d explore later, but right now, Allison was entirely focused on something else. “Eternity would be pretty sad and lonely, without ever going beyond basic need.” Want, passion, desire, feeling. All extraneous things she wasn’t sure Lydia had ever had. While she didn’t know much about her, she knew she didn’t _feel_ like a monster. She felt like a person, a very old, very sad one, who pretended she was happy.

 

“Maybe,” Lydia sighed, and then she was pulling Allison forward and they were kissing. It wasn’t desperate, not at first, but kissing Lydia felt better than breathing, and the more Lydia pulled her in, the easier it was to follow along. 

 

And then it went from easy to almost lazy, her hands and feet starting to tingle, her head going light and fizzy. When Lydia pulled away, Allison gulped in lungfuls of air, even though she felt like she’d been breathing the whole time. It was an effort to open her eyes.

 

Lydia was far away, far enough that Allison couldn’t touch her, at least. She frowned, which was fine, considering Lydia was frowning too. “You should go,” Lydia called. “And you shouldn’t come back.”

 

Before Allison could ask what the hell that meant, she was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Allison was a mess at work that week. She forgot her mother’s coffee, _twice,_ spoke Chinese instead of Japanese to a foreign ambassador and offended her beyond belief, and mixed up a QBB-95 and a Stoner 63A Light. At that point, if her parents could’ve fired her without ruining their legacy, she was pretty sure they would have.

 

She returned to the caves every night, but Lydia never showed. She understood, now, that whatever they’d done had drained Allison in some way – the killer hangover she had the next day was some indication – but Lydia’s reaction made it clear she hadn’t been trying to. And that thought, the idea that she’d made a siren want something from _her,_ was incredible. The idea that the siren was _Lydia_ made it perfect.

 

Lydia, who must’ve watched her a hundred times, must’ve listened as she told her stories and her secrets to the sea, to know what she did about Allison. Who was a monster, a creature of the deep and dark and dangerous, and who pushed her away at the first sign of trouble. Lydia, who had a bitter laugh and a sharp tongue and was shocked at the idea of getting something she wanted.

 

Allison couldn’t possibly be blamed for being curious. For wanting _something._ Wanting more.

 

“I knew you were stubborn, but I didn’t think you suicidal.” Lydia’s alto, musical voice was wicked that day, dangerous and cold.

 

It passed through Allison’s skin and left bruises in its wake.

 

Maybe Lydia had been busy that week. But there was a thought in the back of her head that said maybe, just maybe, Lydia wanted to be close to her too. “I wanted to know more about you.” Allison settled against the rocks, back from the edge, trying not to make Lydia run again. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

 

Low laughter came from the ocean, and then she appeared, shining like rubies against ivory. “There’s not much to know about me,” Lydia deflected. “I eat people and live with the seaweed.”

 

Allison pressed her face into her arms, folded on top of her legs. It was cold enough that she’d worn jeans, since she didn’t plan on soaking her feet in the freezing water tonight. “I did some more reading. Were you... born this way?”

 

Something hard glinted in Lydia’s eyes. “It is what I am.”

 

“But not what you were,” Allison finished. There was a desperate curiosity in her that couldn’t be sated. “Will you tell me?”

 

Lydia looked at her for a long minute.

 

“We were all killers, once.” Her eyes go unfocused, sinking into memories long since left behind. “We did it well, were never caught. And when the time came, and we saw the dying light, we were struck from behind and pulled into the sea.”

 

Lydia closed her eyes. “I killed a missionary. He wanted to get under my skirts, and I hit him with a stone until he died. I rolled his body into the bushes and took off half my clothes and told the others at the mission I had been taken by savages. And when it was dark, I took a shovel and a workman’s clothes and buried him deep.” She smiled, then, glowing and aching and bright, opening her eyes. “I don’t regret it. Am I monster?”

 

Allison took a moment to answer, because she was still deciding. “Maybe monsters are the hunters in the dark. Some men don’t deserve to live.”

 

Lydia caught her eye, and when she spoke, her tone was serious for the first time that night. “There are things in this world too precious to leave unprotected.”

 

“Do you enjoy it?” Allison asked, afraid to know but needing to all at once. “Killing people.”

 

Lydia shrugged. “I need it.”

 

Allison leaned closer, just a little. “What if you needed something else?”

 

“But I don’t.”

 

“So it’s a curse, then?” It sounded that way to her. “Do you know who cast it?”

 

Lydia laughed, and it was brighter than before. “It doesn’t need a who. It’s the way of the world, Allison. A way of punishing us for our sins. I knew I would walk hand in hand with the devil someday. From the moment I pushed his body from mine.”

 

“For all eternity?” There was a stubborn set to Allison’s jaw she recognized, but didn’t want to face. Not when the consequences could be too high to fathom. “Curses can be broken, or so the stories go.”

 

Lydia’s expression softened, almost impossibly so. The vulnerability on her face made Allison want to cry. “For all the fantastic things I’ve seen, _that’s_ a fairy tale.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In spite of the tense nature of their conversation, Lydia returned each night, which caused something tight to ease in Allison’s chest. Her work performance improved. In fact, she went above and beyond, taking on more leadership roles and refusing to be pushed when she didn’t want to be. She was growing more confident, more sure of herself and where she stood. By knowing Lydia, it was like getting to know herself again.

 

Even if every question answered only raised a thousand more.

 

“You’re certain there’s no way?” Allison asked again, a few nights later. “What if you come out from the water? That always seems to work with mermaids.”

 

Lydia scoffed, looking offended. “Those prancing waifs? I’m a thousand times a mermaid. Besides, mermaids _are_ born the way they are. No curse to speak of.”

 

A weight settled against Allison’s shoulders. “You’ll be this way forever, then?”

 

“I did ask,” Lydia admitted, “Since you seem so hung up on the subject.”

 

Allison grinned. “How many are there, other than you? Are they very much older?”

 

“Not many, and only a few are older. There’s a story, they said, but that’s all it is. No one’s ever been able to confirm it.” Lydia looked away a moment. “At least, no one around here.”

 

“What is it?” Allison sat up, leaning forward, eyes bright. “Maybe we can figure it out.”

 

“Why?” It was the first time she’d seen Lydia look scared, since the night they’d kissed, anyway. She hadn’t touched her since, though Allison wanted to. Just a little.

 

“Because an eternity of punishment is never just. Because the man you killed is being punished in the afterlife anyway for his own sins. Because I can’t stand to see people I – “ Allison stopped, her breathing slightly hard. “People I care about hurting.”

 

“And you think you care for me,” Lydia condescended, her tail swishing beneath the waves.

 

“I know myself,” Allison said, refusing to take offense. “I know my mind. I know you _want._ You want more. You should have it.”

 

They entered an intense staring contest, neither breaking until finally, Lydia looked away, eyelashes brushing her cheeks. “It’s just a fragment. Not even a sentence.”

 

Allison waited, feeling serene and patient in the face of Lydia’s submission.

 

“I need to find my heart’s beat.” Lydia looked up with a wry twist of her mouth. “A heart that hasn’t beat since 1794.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finding a defibrillator was harder than Allison expected, but she found a rescue pack with a little one easily enough. It didn’t need any kind of plug, which was really the only requirement, and she made sure to keep it away from the water as she unpacked. Lydia seemed highly amused, watching with avid eyes as Allison set up the device.

 

“I’ve seen people bring a lot of modern technology down, but never anything like this.” Lydia waved a hand at the small machine. “It’s made to restart the heart?”

 

“For when people have heart attacks,” Allison murmured, entirely concentrating on the task at hand. She knew it couldn’t be this easy, couldn’t be so simple, but she had to _try_. Occam’s razor and all that.

 

“Alright,” she said, turning to Lydia. “This may hurt.”

 

“That’ll be new,” Lydia remarked dryly, but she leaned into the cave, her upper body sluicing from the water and dripping against the stone. Allison tried very hard not to look at her bare torso, which made Lydia grin, and then she was wiping her chest down with a towel, her hands close enough to touch and it felt hard to _breathe._

 

“Okay.” Allison kept her voice firm, steeling herself before pressing her fingertips to the area she needed, feeling to make sure she was in the right place. She’d found her own heartbeat last night, and made sure to place her fingers in the same place, without a heartbeat to guide her. “Ready?”

 

“As ever.” Lydia’s voice was low, and it made something in Allison wind tight. She picked up the defib and readied it for use.

 

“Three, two, one – “

 

“Ouch!” Lydia jolted, falling forward into Allison, who immediately abandoned the defib in favor of catching her. It wasn’t charged, anyway, couldn’t hurt anyone. Probably. 

 

“Are you okay?” Allison asked, worried.

 

“Fine.” Lydia murmured, untangling herself from Allison and sliding into the water. “And feeling no different, though now I know how much electricity really _loathes_ water dwellers.” 

 

Allison gave a small smile. “I think it always feels like that.”

 

“And they use that on people all the time?” Lydia seemed horrified.

 

“Only when they’re dying.” She shrugged and packed it away, disappointed, though she shouldn’t have been. “If you don’t have one, you do CPR, where you breathe into someone’s lungs and then push on their heart and try and get it to beat, but that’s only if their heart stopped very recently, I think.”

 

“So does this mean we can move on?” Lydia asked, back to her original enthusiasm, which was clearly none. 

 

“No,” Allison answered fiercely. “It means we go less literal.” 

 

Lydia moaned, but she thought she saw a secret smile on her lips, too, as Allison turned to leave.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Allison brought all kinds of mythology books down to the caves by the sea, books Lydia poured over with absolute relish. She even dried her hands on the towel, though she preferred the feel of the sea, so as not to ruin the books. In those moments, Allison caught another glimpse of her personality; Lydia wanted to learn. She loved languages and stories and books and discovery.

 

The thought that she might never get to learn beyond what Allison could bring for her solidified her desire to free her from the curse. With Lydia’s quick mind, she could help so many people, atone for the ones she’d taken, free _herself_ from the guilt Allison could see she was carrying, whether she would admit to it or not.

 

They didn’t find much, but sometimes Lydia’s head would touch hers as they looked over a book together, and maybe that was reason enough to continue. Allison, for the first time, was doing something that made her feel alive.

 

Though it was fall now, and the wind was often angry and cold, Allison went down as far as she could. She didn’t like to chance the storms over the ocean, which made the waves thick and angry, but on nights when she had a particularly urgent idea, she put on her best boots and climbing gloves and hoped she didn’t slip.

 

She’d done it at least three times, and each time she’d made it through, though Lydia glared every time her teeth chattered. Allison slid on her gloves and grit her teeth, starting the climb across the stones to get to the outcropping of caves they’d come to call their own. Her phone was left at her house, a key under the mat, and no books today. Just an idea on “heartbeat” as a metaphor.

 

Allison didn’t even make it halfway before she slipped, her hands sliding against wet rock and her back hitting the harsh wall of the sea.

 

She screamed as she fell and was rewarded with a rush of salt water in her mouth, making her cough and gag. She tried to swim to the surface, but couldn’t find it, her hand brushing rock when she tried to move upwards. Her lungs had already begun to burn with the water she’d inhaled, and when her head broke free to the surface at last, she could only take a second to cough and half inhale before she was going under again.

 

The water was so cold it felt like fire, prickling and burning against her skin, invading every pore until she felt like a living icicle. It became harder and harder to pull her head up, and even after she shrugged out of her jacket, she couldn’t tread the water. It was too angry, too volatile.

 

Allison was a fighter, someone who didn’t give up, but her body didn’t seem to cooperate. Every time she tried to push through the water, her arms offered only a weak response, deprived of needed oxygen. She felt herself sinking, in spite of how hard she was trying to push upwards.

 

 _In the end I drowned for her anyway,_ Allison thought, but it wasn’t such a bad thought. She was drowning for her own integrity. For _loyalty._

 

And she’d get back to it, right after she went to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A violent pain in her chest woke her up.

 

Allison coughed, turning instinctively to the side as water rushed from her lungs. That felt weird. Why was she breathing water?

 

Disjointed memories flooded back as she struggled to open her eyes, even her eyelids heaving with exhaustion. The coughing continued, and all she could see was sand, but she felt better knowing her surroundings.

 

“I didn’t think that would work, I didn’t – Allison – “

 

She tried to breathe, her chest moving pitifully even though she felt like it was heaving. “Lydia,” she whispered, because of course, who else would save her from the waves but the one who lived within them?

 

“I had to drag you, I can’t – I can’t carry you farther than this.” When Allison looked up, her vision was blurry, but Lydia looked like she might be crying. The thought upset her. Lydia never showed that much vulnerability.

 

“S’okay,” Allison murmured, her throat dry and cracked from all the salt. “Go back. Don’t know what’ll happen. With you out of sea.” She was expediting, her voice too gone to say more than she had to, but Lydia could die if she was beached. They still didn’t know the consequences yet.

 

“I can’t, you can’t get home, Allison, you can’t even sit up.” Lydia’s voice turned to steel. “I won’t leave you.”

 

Allison forced herself not to wince as she reached up, sliding her hand to Lydia’s shoulder. The siren was leaning over her, her red hair brushing against Allison’s stomach through her shirt. She was so close. “I’ll be fine. Don’t _die._ ”

 

Lydia laughed, and the sound was still thick with emotion. “I promise not to. The water’s still washing over us, do you feel it?”

 

She did feel it, cold and wet against her feet, but the tide was receding. “ _Go._ ” Allison pushed feebly against her chest, which didn’t do anything to Lydia, who retained her supernatural strength.

 

“I can’t,” Lydia whispered, leaning close. Her mouth brushed Allison’s brow, her kiss so full of warmth it brought a little back to Allison’s chest. “I can’t leave you. I can’t bear it.”

 

Allison remembered the reason she’d been going to the caves in the first place, and her hand slid to Lydia’s heart, praying for a beat. “You have a big heart, Lydia,” she mumbled, forcing out the words, “and I adore you.”

 

Lydia made a small, shocked sound, but Allison was fading from consciousness again, sinking into the inky blackness.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Allison woke up for the second time, every muscle in her body ached. She tried to sit up and look around, but that was far too painful, so instead she laid down, frowning. She was in her sandy, gritty clothes, but there was a soft bed beneath her, clearly not sand.

 

She was in her bedroom at home.

 

“It was difficult to find your key, especially after all the work it took getting you back.” Lydia stood in the doorway, her hair dry for the first time she’d seen it, her expression warm. “Lucky I kept the strength I had before. I only had to worry about remembering how legs _worked._ ”

 

“You have legs?” Allison frowned, her voice hoarse. Then she grinned. “You have legs!”

 

Lydia, she noticed, was wearing one of her casual dresses, her hair tumbling unkempt around her face. She seemed unsure as she stepped forward, but made it to the bed okay, sitting down and brushing her fingers across Allison’s cheek. “I have legs.”

 

Allison smiled a bit sheepishly. “You saved me.” She normally hated to be saved, wanted to be the one to save herself, but if whatever happened gave her legs, she couldn’t be upset.

 

A hum, but Lydia was smiling. “We saved each other.”

 

Allison laughed, then coughed, shaking her head. “Good.”

 

“I texted your father to tell him you were sick and couldn’t come in tomorrow,” Lydia said. “Now get up and I’ll help you change so you can _rest._ I’ll figure everything out.”

 

Allison grinned, giddy. “How did you know how to use my phone?”

 

“Please,” Lydia murmured. “I know the alphabet.” 

 

“Of course. Forgive my confusion,” Allison apologized, playing along. “Does this mean you’re free?”

 

“I’m not a siren anymore, that’s certain.” Now that she said it, Allison _did_ notice the change. Her voice was less musical, higher pitched and real. Her skin no longer glowed, and her teeth were dull aside from the canines. 

 

She seemed... human. 

 

“But still a superhero, with that strength.”

 

Lydia laughed. “The only person I’ve ever saved was you.”

 

Allison sat up on the bed, facing Lydia. It was a thrill to know Lydia really was shorter than she was, so she had to look down to meet her eyes. “I’m very grateful.”

 

Lydia leaned closer. “I should hope so.”

 

Even with the taste of salt and sand in her mouth, they kissed, and that was alright, because Lydia tasted the same way. She was soft and warm and _alive,_ and when Allison slid a hand to her neck, she could feel a vibrant pulse beating against her skin.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://dallisons.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/derekkira).


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